“She began reckoning up the time she had been at The Gallustree, wife to the groom, living in two rooms above an old brewing house. ‘It is not for ever,’ she said, ‘I’ll kill myself rather than go on always.’ As the days grew longer, Easter went out later each evening; he was waiting for the dusk to conceal his meetings with a woman. They used to wander about the fields after dark. She was a limp, shuffling person, whose nature was hardy and indifferent. She had a creased, yellow face, her b...lack hair hung over her forehead as far as her wide-open shining eyes, which moved so swiftly that they appeared to flash. A dirty merry little woman, she walked with one hand thrust into the neck of her dress against her warm skin, and the other in the band of her apron. She was a charwoman. She was always laughing and made him laugh too. She told him about the foul-mouthed old farmer who rented Matt’s home farm, and his great, shouting, stingy wife and daughter who had a fine name for charity off their own acres.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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